


Fable

by EvilMuffins



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22061383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/pseuds/EvilMuffins
Summary: If he never finished his suggestion, never spoke the offer out loud, Akechi thought that perhaps Yusuke might have remained there, a statue frozen in time as a monument to Goro Akechi's horrendously bad judgment.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kitagawa Yusuke
Comments: 5
Kudos: 71





	Fable

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is actually a scene that I had planned to have in [Aesopica](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11671149) since the very beginning, but cut for various reasons. It takes place directly after the beginning flashback in [chapter 8](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11671149/chapters/40566665). That said, this story can also be read on its own and enjoyed as a stand-alone piece :)
> 
> Happy one-year completion anniversary to Aesopica!

There were many things in life that Goro Akechi did not enjoy. This included, but was far from limited to, things such as: ridiculously spicy food, cats, overly friendly baristas coming back from the dead ...and being trapped.

Gasping for breath, panic washed over him as he tried to free himself from the blankets to no avail.

Something, gently yet firmly, held him down on the bed.

“You were having a nightmare.”

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Akechi craned his neck in the darkness to make out the form of Yusuke lying flush against him, lanky arm draped over Akechi's torso with surprising strength.

If he had awoken from the depths of a dream, he couldn't remember one. Akechi wondered if he were that restless every night. There had never been anyone around to tell him before.

“Forgive me if I alarmed you further,” Yusuke continued uncertainly, propping himself up on one elbow, other arm still holding Akechi in a tight embrace. “One of my former sensei's older students would hold me like this after my having a nightmare as a child... I wasn't certain how else to calm you. I admit that I hadn't meant to doze off during your time in the shower, but when I awoke, you were there beside me thrashing about as if possessed.”

Far too many words for so few hours having passed into the night.

“What time is it?” Akechi grumbled, for lack of anything more intelligent to say as he rubbed a fist into his eyes. He had always been a light sleeper, so it came to him as a complete wonder that he had actually been able to drift off immediately after laying down beside Yusuke the previous evening.

After Akechi had no less than blackmailed him into sharing the bed, Yusuke's first instinct would still be to comfort him, a person he was still so clearly distrustful of? Was there a single member of the Phantom Thieves who wasn't a complete fool?

Akechi himself included.

Limbs heavy with sleep, he attempted to turn himself over, only for his knees to connect with Yusuke's body in the process. He couldn't help but laugh, a single sharp crow, the sound ringing out strangely in the otherwise silent room.

Yusuke flinched, finally retracting his arm to shift backward slightly, pulling himself away from Akechi, although still standing his ground gracefully enough considering the situation. Akechi wondered if Yusuke's cheeks were turning red, mere inches from his own, if he were cringing in shame. For once, he cursed the dark. “Kitagawa... Are you sure that _you_ weren't the one having a weird dream?”

Akechi certainly hadn't been the one dreaming when his knee brushed over the beginnings of a bulge in Yusuke's boxers seconds earlier.

“If- If you'll excuse me...” Yusuke coughed, placing his feet on the floor.

Akechi could have said nothing. He could have let Yusuke slink off into the bathroom, while Akechi lay there, imagining the whole damn thing all the while. Yusuke, fine features screwed up as he quietly jerked himself off just on the other side of the bed room wall.

“Wait.”

Obediently, Yusuke froze on the edge of the bed, turning his head toward Akechi as if such undivided attention were needed of the apartment's sole occupants.

“I could...” Akechi couldn't believe what he was about to offer. He swallowed, mouth suddenly sapped of all moisture. There were times in which Akechi could swear that he heard the voice of Loki, snickering in the back of his mind, egging him on.

Now was one of them.

If he never finished his suggestion, never spoke the offer out loud, Akechi thought that perhaps Yusuke might have remained there, a statue frozen in time as a monument to Goro Akechi's horrendously bad judgment.

“I could help you out with that.” The catch in his voice was far from alluring.

Yet Yusuke remained.

Unspoken indecision hung heavily in the air, a blanket woven of guilt about to smother them both. Finally, Akechi kicked the tangle of sheets toward the foot of the bed. Overshooting, they slid over the edge instead, pooling on the floor as Akechi climbed nearer to where Yusuke sat. “It's my fault for squirming all over you like that,” Akechi admitted kindly, coming up to kneel behind him.

“...If you please,” Yusuke agreed with the soft reluctance of a gambler tossing in his last coin.

The first time Akechi had ever entered the Metaverse as a fourteen year old child, he had of course been terrified, one lost child against the multitude of viscous Shadows. And then Robin Hood had spoken to him, followed sometime after by Loki's deranged mutterings. Fear and exhilaration, existing side by side like twin Personae, like two lonely people sharing a bed.

Despite the fact that Yusuke had held him close just minutes earlier, Akechi could feel Yusuke's torso stiffen as he wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in the crook of Yusuke's neck. He had expected the artist to smell like paint, or the lingering aroma of the the coffee from the previous afternoon. Instead, he smelled of the laundry soap Akechi had washed his hoodie in, the one that Yusuke now wore. He smelled like he had always been there, a constant fixture in Akechi's little corner of the world.

The warmth and comfort gained merely from the act of pressing his chest flush against another warm body was startling, to say the least. When was the last time he had even touched another person beyond to politely shake their hand, his own encased in a pair of gloves? He had always washed afterward anyway.

An act so simple as pressing his open mouth against the soft flesh of Yusuke's neck earned a shiver coursing down Yusuke's spine. Drinking in the reality of the moment, Akechi continued, encouraged by the failing composure of Yusuke's each breath and the taste of his skin of Akechi's on tongue.

Cursing himself for lending Yusuke such a bulky hoodie the previous evening, Akechi snaked his hands up the front of it, not entirely certain of what he meant to do from there, all the while unnerved by the prominent outline of Yusuke's ribs under his touch. Instead, he traveled upward, brushing a thumb over a hardening nipple, watching in satisfaction as Yusuke's thighs shifted, over-sized hoodie no longer covering the straining in his boxers, evident even despite the sympathetic darkness.

Whenever they had ridden together while in the Metaverse, Yusuke had prattled on and on about the beauty of their surroundings and how fascinating he had found the shadows, among other more mundane topics such as the local blood drive, and how delicious their complementary cookies and juice were.

For once, Yusuke was quiet.

For once, Akechi wanted him to make some noise.

Abandoning Yusuke's chest, Akechi instead trailed his fingers experimentally over the front of Yusuke's shorts. A soft groan fell from Yusuke's lips, fingertips digging into the sheets, and Akechi couldn't help but bury a smirk into Yusuke's shoulder. Somehow, touching another person like this—reveling in the sheer simplicity of cause and effect born from every action—felt considerably more pleasurable than the rare occasions in which persistent boredom prodded Akechi into getting off for himself.

“I'm not hurting you am I?” Akechi asked innocently, removing his hands altogether and pulling his chest away from Yusuke's slender back, immediately cursing the sudden loss of warmth.

Genuinely alarmed by the notion, Yusuke turned around to face him as best he could from his position on the edge of the bed. “Of course not!” he blurted, before turning his gaze back toward the floor. “...What I mean to say is...”

“Tell me. Go on.” Akechi wanted to purr, but the words came out wheedling, as if he were a childish bully prodding his target into admitting something embarrassing.

Softly, reluctantly, Yusuke spoke, “...I would like for you to continue... Please.”

Perhaps it was the addition of that barely uttered 'please', but the admission was enough, settling deeply into the pit of Akechi's stomach. Sliding off the bed, he dropped to his knees on the floor.

“You can pretend that I'm Joker, if it'll help,” Akechi offered generously, tugging at impatiently at Yusuke's waistband. Whether Yusuke took him up on it or not, Akechi wasn't about to kid himself that anyone wouldn't actually prefer his company that to that of Akira Kurusu.

No matter who it was that occupied either of their thoughts at the moment, not a single other person was present to witness this night. Each time Yusuke's breath caught in his throat, every time his fingers groped for purchase in Akechi's hair, none of it would ever belong to another soul, not to Joker, not to Sae and certainly not _Shido_ , not even a scrap or morsel for the rest of the Phantom Thieves.

Legs quivering slightly, Yusuke stood for the second it took for Akechi to pull his shorts down to pool around his feet.

Perhaps he had been cruel in making Yusuke wait so long, he thought, ignoring the building discomfort in his own pants.

“You're a guest here,” Akechi said absently, hoping the darkness hid the way he chewed at the corner of his own lip. “I just want you to be comfortable.”

Without waiting for a response, Akechi plunged his mouth down onto Yusuke's cock.

For someone who always spoke so pretentiously, the resulting sound forced from his throat was wholly unintelligible, head thrown back as dull nails dug into Akechi's scalp. Rather than paint, there would be blood underneath his nails if they were to continue on like this for too long.

Akechi had felt pain before. What did come as a complete novelty to him was the act of causing another person pleasure, rather than watching them die as a ghost of the Metaverse.

Quickly, he found a rhythm, soon falling in with the increasing speed of Yusuke's each breath, alongside the pounding of his own heart inside of his chest.

Again, he wished that he could see Yusuke's face. What had he looked like during the awakening of his Persona? Had his refined features transfigured into something just short of feral? Allowing his mind to stray, Akechi couldn't keep the heel of his free palm from grinding into his own arousal.

That particular trail of thought was soon interrupted by the sound of Yusuke moaning above him, hands going tense in Akechi's hair before slumping down to brace on his shoulders. Something hot filled his mouth. Sputtering, Akechi pulled away, grabbing for a tissue off the nightstand to spat in and clean his hand with.

“I'm sorry...”

Akechi craned his neck from where he sat on the floor, back propped against the nightstand and not yet trusting himself to stand up. He could make out the form of Yusuke, still slumped over on the edge of the bed, although he had managed to gather the wherewithal to pull his shorts back on, the sharp outlines of his hipbones were still exposed.

For a person who had spent so many years in pursuit of praise himself, Akechi found himself uncertain what to say.

“It's fine. You... You did a good job.” Internally Akechi cringed. He sounded like a goddamn school teacher.

Clambering back up into bed, Akechi didn't even find the will to care that he didn't get to finish himself. Crawling past Yusuke, he made for his own side, flopping over to face the wall.

He was tired, in so many ways, just wanted to go back to sleep.

The mattress creaked as Yusuke settled back in beside him.

“You could always return the favor,” Akechi murmured into the pillow. “If you really feel so indebted, that is.”

A moment passed, then two before Yusuke shifted to lean over him just as before.

  
  



End file.
